Chapter 5 - Confronting Mother Margaret’s Cold Lies
“No, David, please don't say anything to your mother! If you make a scene, they will throw me out on the street!” Gwen begged.
“Nobody is throwing you out of anywhere, Gwen. This is your house, and I am back now,” David stated with absolute finality.
Before Gwen could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway toward the guest bedroom.
Margaret’s shrill voice cut through the morning air before she even reached the open doorway.
“Gwen! Stop wasting time in the guest room and get downstairs to make my imported coffee right now!” Margaret barked loudly.
The door pushed open wider, revealing Margaret standing there in her silk robe with a diamond necklace sparkling at her throat.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw David standing right beside Gwen, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.
Margaret’s arrogant expression flickered for a fraction of a second before she quickly plastered on a fake, cheerful smile.
“Oh, David, darling! You’re up early,” Margaret said smoothly, stepping into the room as if nothing was wrong.
“We were just having a quiet conversation about the last four years, Mother,” David replied, his eyes locking onto hers.
Margaret fidgeted slightly under his unblinking stare, feeling the heavy, intimidating aura her son had brought back from war.
“Well, there’s no need to interrogate her, David. Gwen has been very unstable lately, imagining all sorts of terrible things,” Margaret lied.
“Unstable? Is that why her face is bruised and she’s sleeping on a cot in the master suite?” David asked coldly.
Margaret’s face paled instantly, her eyes darting nervously toward Gwen before snapping back to meet her son’s gaze.
“She fell down the stairs in the dark last month! It was a terrible accident, wasn't it, Gwen?” Margaret snapped sharply.
Gwen shrank back instinctively, trembling and nodding her head in terrified agreement to appease her mother-in-law.
“Accidents happen when people are clumsy,” Paige added, sauntering into the room with her designer coffee mug in hand.
Paige looked at David with an entitled smirk, expecting her older brother to accept their fabricated explanation without question.
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“You two think you’ve played this game to perfection, don’t you?” David said, stepping slowly toward the doorway.
“David, don't be ridiculous. We took care of your wife while you were away playing hero,” Margaret scoffed defensively.
